by Marian Tee
“Ilse.”
The tears fell faster, and he could no longer help it. He hauled her into his arms, and she clung to him, sobs wracking her body, and it was another first he didn’t want, another first that did not and would never feel right.
“Issac.” She said his name like it was a cry for help, and oh God, it wasn’t fucking right.
His arms tightened around her. “I’m here,” he said rawly. “I’m always here for you.”
She raised unseeing eyes to his, and all the pain in the world was in it.
Ah God.
He suddenly felt like he was on the verge of breaking, too.
“Anything you need, Ilse.” His voice was fierce. “Anything you goddamn need---”
“Issac---”
“Because I’m yours.”
Ilse choked back a sob. “Please…please don’t say that.”
“My promises were empty before, but not now, Ilse. I’m yours.” His hand shook as he carefully wiped the tears that continued to stain her cheeks. “So anything---”
“I think,” she said brokenly, “you already know.”
Ah.
“D-don’t you?” Ilse swallowed hard. “You know w-what I wanted to talk to you about.” Her teeth sank into her lower lip as she did her best to stop crying. “No one w-wants to tell me a t-thing, but I know. I know something’s wrong even if I can’t see it.”
She tried to swallow back another sob, but the pain was too much to keep inside, and another cry went past her throat.
“Ilse…”
“Please, Issac,” she whispered. “Please. You’re the only one I trust to tell me the truth.”
Silence.
Such long, damning silence.
“I’m sorry, Ilse.” Issac’s voice was harsh. “He’s been seen leaving the hotel room of an ex-girlfriend.”
And Ilse shattered.
He caught her before she fell, and he held her tightly to him, even knowing that he was not the one she needed.
Goddamn you, Jaak de Konigh.
Angels weren’t made to cry.
Chapter 21
The flight back to Amsterdam was spent in somber silence, with most of the flight crew still struggling with shock at what had transpired earlier at the airport in Milan. When the controversial photos broke the Internet yesterday morning, paparazzi from all over Europe came running to Italy’s capital like bloodhounds going for the kill. Yasmin, the billionaire’s ex-lover, although readily obliging the reporters’ demands for a statement, had not much to say. “The matter is between Jaak and me.” Innocuous words certainly, but because they were not an outright denial of the billionaire cheating on his Dutch non-celebrity girlfriend, they only served to fuel the rumors.
With their usual enterprising ways, the media had learned of the billionaire’s scheduled flight out of Milan, and they had staked the airport, waiting for the tight-lipped billionaire.
When he finally did, the first reporter that reached Jaak de Konigh had asked, “Did you get tired of fucking the public pussy, is that it?”
And that was it.
By the time security had managed to pull the billionaire away, both his fists were bloodied and bruised, but even so he looked better off than the reporter, whose face had been nearly unrecognizable after being in the receiving end of the billionaire’s punches.
It had chaos and hell, and the billionaire had been taken into police custody while an ambulance took the unconscious reporter to the E.R. Meanwhile, the remaining paparazzi had started hounding the flight crew of the billionaire’s private jet. Was he always that hotheaded? Had he verbally or physically abused any of them?
Only stoic silence met their questions and bribes. The violence that the billionaire displayed had shocked them, but even so the staff remained deeply loyal to Jaak de Konigh. He had always been a good employer to them, a fair and generous man. They would stand by him, even when the rest of the world didn’t.
When the jet finally landed in Amsterdam, the billionaire was not surprised to see the airport free of any signs of media presence. Here, the de Konighs held unparalleled power, and Jaak knew without being told Willem had taken immediate measures to ensure his privacy and security.
Upon making it to his limousine, he called his brother right away. “How is Ilse?”
“She left to meet with Issac Bakker,” Willem answered quietly, “but other than that she hadn’t left the house. Security’s made sure that none of the media bothers her.”
“But she knows?”
“All I know is that Serenity and her friends refused to tell her anything.”
Jaak breathed hard. “Thank you, Willem.” Thank you for never failing, the way he always---
“Jaak.”
He watched the home he had shared two goddamn magical weeks with Ilse gradually rise into view.
How fucking happy they had been.
How foolish she had been to trust her.
And how even more foolish he had been, to let her.
The limousine slowed down at the top of the driveway, but the billionaire didn’t step out right away. He simply stayed there, watching from the inside, wondering numbly if he even had the right to see her.
“Jaak, are you still there?”
“Ja.”
“Did you cheat on her?”
“It doesn’t matter if I did. I knew what I was doing. I knew what would happen the moment I stepped inside and---I still did it anyway.”
The house was cold and quiet, and although he had hired staff to be present around the clock, all of them were conspicuously absent. On his way to the stairs, he passed by the formal dining room, its door ajar, revealing Jan eating alone, and an opened book on his lap.
After a moment of hesitation, the billionaire turned and headed towards the dining room. He knocked on the door, waiting for Ilse’s brother to look at him.
Jan brightened up at the sight of the billionaire. “You’re back!”
His chest clenched at Jan’s smile of welcome, the sight slashing him to the core because he didn’t think he deserved it. He said hoarsely, “I’m back.” And he managed to return the smile, barely, his lips forming a crooked grin.
“Where’s the staff?”
“Ilse gave them the day off yesterday.”
“I see.” And he did. Because he had known this kind of pain, and he had known the need to be alone in it.
Turning back to Jan, he noticed that Jan’s plate was the only one on the table, and the billionaire asked if Ilse had eaten yet.
The younger man slowly shook his head. “She hasn’t come down since this morning.” Jan took the workbook on his lap. “She was supposed to help me with today’s lessons.”
“Was she?” The billionaire gestured to the workbook. “May I see it?” At Jan’s nod, he reached for the workbook and saw an illustration of the solar system. “Were you asked to memorize the planets?”
Ilse’s brother nodded.
“Recite it to me then,” he said. “I’ll let you know if you got anything wrong.”
Jan took a deep breath. “Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars.” He paused, his face scrunching up.
“Go on, you can do it.”
“Jupiter, September, October---”
The billionaire’s eyes widened.
Jan broke off with a frown.
The billionaire did his best to keep a straight face.
But then Jan smiled sheepishly, and he could no longer help it.
The billionaire laughed, and so did Jan.
When he finally managed to speak clearly, he told Jan encouragingly, “You’ll get it right next time.”
Jan nodded.
“Let’s practice again soon, okay?” He came to his feet. “I’ll check on Ilse now. Will you be okay here on your own?”
“Yup.” As the billionaire walked away, Jan suddenly said, “Jaak?”
He looked back at Ilse’s brother. “Yes?”
“She’s been crying.” There was a slightest trace of co
nfusion in Jan’s voice. “She never cries.”
The billionaire ascended the stairs slowly, and upon reaching the landing, he saw that the door to their bedroom was left slightly open. She was seated on the carpeted floor, her hair pulled back by a lace band, her face free of makeup, like it had always been since the accident.
She was dressed in an oversized sweater and jeans, and she was busy stacking an assortment of stuff in a huge brown box.
But the moment his gaze fell on her, Ilse’s movements stilled, and his guts twisted in a sickening realization. At that moment, he remembered the first time he and Ilse had returned from the hospital. He remembered her asking if she had come up---
He had lied, and she had known he lied.
But she had let him.
She had let him lie because if she hadn’t, the truth would have been out in the open.
The truth, and that was that she had needed him that night, and he had chosen not to be there.
So many thoughts struck Ilse all at once as she felt him coming towards her, and for one moment she just wished. She just wished so badly she could see him.
His silky black hair---
His brilliant blue eyes---
She strained herself to see, but she just couldn’t. All she could do was wait. All she could do was feel.
I love you.
I hate you.
I need you.
As he came nearer, the familiar scent of him, the familiar heat of him, reached her and Ilse’s every thought disintegrated. Pain and love saturated her heart to the point that it felt like it was about to burst any moment.
And when he finally spoke---
“Hello.”
She realized how easy – so damn easy – it was to lose any of her other senses. She didn’t even need to be a part of another accident. She only had to love, she only had to hurt, and she could no longer speak.
The seconds stretched between them, unmarred by words, and all the while she could feel him gazing at her, and she hurt even more. It used to be that when he looked at her, she would feel beautiful.
But now she no longer did.
“Ilse---”
Just the way he uttered her name told Ilse that he was going to tell her about it.
They were going to talk about those photos.
Of him being caught entering another woman’s room---
When he was supposed to be in love with her.
She turned away from him with a jerk.
“Ilse---”
She reached for the first item with a shaking hand, and as soon as her fingers wrapped around a mug, she began groping for space inside the box, trying to look for the best possible fit for it.
Ilse had gotten two mugs and a book in by the time the billionaire spoke again. “You don’t want to hear it.”
She froze.
“Do you?’
Ilse slowly shook her head.
“Alright then.” He slowly reached for her hands, and they felt too cold in his. “Alright.” Even knowing it would be better for him to simply let go and walk away---
Even knowing that he would do her no good---
His grip tightened.
“Forgive me, Ilse.”
He thought she still wouldn’t speak, and she didn’t. But her head bowed slightly, a nod, and it was still more than he deserved, and the billionaire inhaled deeply. “I’m so damn sorry. So goddamn sorry for everything.”
He spoke, and she would nod.
All small nods, without a single word of recrimination---
She accepted him.
She believed him, no questions asked.
And it was really more than he deserved.
More than he would ever deserve.
“You know…I have to leave, don’t you?”
Her fingers twitched in his grip. She knew.
But still, they stayed in his hold. She knew…but she didn’t want him to leave.
“I’m not leaving because you’re blind,” the billionaire said hoarsely. “I love you, Ilse. I will always love you. But I know I’ll hurt you even more if I stay, and---” The billionaire’s tone became savage. “I don’t want to keep failing you to the point that the worst happens. Willem almost died because of me, and I---”
The mere thought of it – the mere goddamn thought of it was more than he could bear, and he broke off.
His hands loosened.
And even before he came back to his feet, Ilse had already felt her disappearing on him, and her lips started to tremble.
Please don’t disappear on me.
But she covered her mouth, struggling to keep the words and all the tears inside of her.
“Goodbye, Ilse.”
Please don’t disappear on me.
Please.
But he was gone.
She listened for his footsteps, listened for the sound of his car driving away, and when everything was as silent and empty---
Stumbling to her feet, she began to grope her way out of the room and clutched the newly installed safety rails as she made her way down the steps. She counted them in her mind, and it felt like a hundred tears fell from her eyes with every step.
“Ilse?”
She shuddered to a stop at the sound of Jan’s voice, and Ilse hastily wiped her tears as he met her at the mezzanine. “Hey.”
“Are you okay, Ilse?”
It wasn’t ever supposed to be his place to ask her that, and Ilse did her best to smile. “Yes. I’m okay.”
She could sense him gazing worriedly at her, and when he spoke, she could almost picture him shaking his head. “But you look horrible.”
“Thank you, Jan, for being so honest.” A painful laugh escaped her. “Thank you.” She reached for him, and because they were now familiar with how they had to interact with Ilse’s lost eyesight, Jan automatically moved his face within her reach.
Her fingers clasped his cheeks. “But you were too honest.” And she pinched them hard enough to make him yelp.
The sound made her want to smile, and she did.
But it also made her want to cry again, and she just---
Ilse whispered tremulously, “I’m scared, Jan.”
“Don’t be, Ilse.” Jan’s tone was serious. “I’m here.”
Ah.
The tears rushed down her cheeks.
“I know. And I’m glad. I’m glad.” The tears fell faster, and her hands fell from his face. “But what I’m afraid of,” she choked out, “is that I won’t be strong enough.”
And as soon as the words slipped past her lips, there was no stopping all her fears from rushing to the fore, threatening to drown her---
Until she heard Jan speak.
“Ilse, you’re not making sense.”
This brother of hers who was special, this brother of hers who everyone thought was a brick around her neck---
“Why are you afraid? You’re always strong.”
This brother of hers was the only one who could save her now, and he did.
You’re always strong.
And it was almost she could hear her own parents in her mind, whispering the same things.
You’re always strong.
And she was.
She had forgotten in her pain, but she remembered now.
She was strong, and she would always be strong because there were people who loved her.
They loved her, and so they believed in her.
It was the way it should be.
And because she loved Jaak, and he loved her---
Shouldn’t it be so for both of them, too?
Chapter 22
Two men skied down the slopes in neck-breaking speed, identical in height and build. One was suited up entirely in white, the other in black, and upon making the hairpin turn at the end, the two of them soared in the sky---
It was like watching two angels in a furious race against each other – one who still had his wings, another who had fallen from grace.
Their skis pounded the snow as th
ey made their landfall, and those who were in the vicinity cheered wildly as the pair skied to a stop.
The men took off their helmets, and Willem raked a hand through his blond hair. “That was crazy.”
“I told you it was,” Jaak answered dryly. “But you insisted on going anyway.”
“I had to.” The older de Konigh’s tone was blunt. “I had to make sure you wouldn’t suddenly succumb to the urge to take your life.”
As they walked off, Jaak asked about Serenity.
“Still not talking to you,” Willem answered pleasantly.
“Ah.” Jaak’s lips twisted. “Can’t say I blame her.”
They went on their separate ways after that, both of them agreeing to meet at the chalet for dinner. After taking a shower at his hotel room, Jaak took the snowmobile to get to the family chalet, where Willem and Serenity were staying. Normally, he wouldn’t have any problem playing the third wheel with the couple, but it was different now.
Serenity hated him, and he respected that. She was being completely loyal to Ilse, and he respected that even more. But more than that, it was because of where they were living, and the billionaire’s face took on a grim expression as he considered the timelessly elegant façade of the chalet.
He had been twenty-one the last time he had come here. He had been a troubled twenty-one then, struggling with feelings of isolation and despair because most of his soul had still been trapped in the past. Eleven years down the line, and it didn’t seem like much had changed.
He was still alone, his soul just as broken.
When he came knocking on the front door, Jaak prepared himself to face a militant-looking Serenity, but the family butler showed up instead to usher him in. “Goedenavond, mijnheer.”
“Goedenavond, Bertrand.” Everything inside still looked the same, with a twenty-foot crystal chandelier showering the receiving area with golden light. The white brick walls made the living room appear even more spacious, and the marbled fireplace hadn’t lost its majestic appeal even after all these years, with its column pillars and scrolled header.
“Are the master of the house and his lady still upstairs?” he asked with a crooked grin.
“Sir Willem is waiting for you at the dining room, mijnheer.”
“And Serenity?”